he's such a nice guy
by etotheswan
Summary: Even thieves know when to return the stolen goods. Part 3 of 4 of the series: It Wasn't Supposed to be This Way.


It's really not fair.

You know it's not.

Robin is _such _a nice guy. Not just one of those guys that seems like a nice guy on the outside. No, of course not. He's like, legitimately and genuinely a _nice guy_. All the boys like him. Your dad. Hook. Even Neal - and Neal doesn't like new people, ever. Henry likes him, too. And his little boy? Roland? Seriously?

You remember when you met Roland and he gave you a firm handshake with that tiny hand - your mind immediately remembered never having that connection with Henry and you almost _cried_ - and said that it was nice to meet you, Miss Swan. And your heart broke because it was twelve minutes after you almost told Regina - the first time - that you are in love with her. It was after dinner and the lights were dim and you were drinking the red wine she had poured you and her blouse was unbuttoned to the third button and the way she leaned over to fill your glass gave you the perfect view of her breasts. She had smiled at you and made your skin sweat with how she moistened her lips before she told you how happy she is that you're back and that you and her are actually _getting along_. Her eyes caught yours and if that front door wouldn't have opened and Robin and Roland hadn't have walked in, you would have told her then. You would have fucked everything up even sooner. But they did walk in. Because he stays there with her. And she's _with_ him.

She's with _him…_

_And, goddammit, he's such a nice guy._

He actually laughs at your jokes. Not the fake laugh, either. It's a good, hearty laugh. There's a twinkle in his eyes and his rough scruff on his face coupled with his accent and his laugh and you know if you were still wanting the company of anyone other than Regina, you'd probably have fallen for him, too.

So, when he sits down in front of your desk, his bow and quiver of arrows laying across his lap, you are pretty sure he's going to confront you. If Ruby saw the kiss, and Belle saw the kiss, there's no telling who else saw it and you know how this town handles gossip. You're actually shocked that you didn't see it on the front page of the Storybrooke Daily Mirror.

"Swan, how's it goin'?" he asks, smiling at you.

"Oh, you know. It's going. It's, uh, it's slow right now. So, yeah, that's, uh, that's good." You honestly would punch yourself if you could because god, can't you just act like you're not guilty?

He nods his head and then leans a little forward. You see his knuckles whiten where he's gripping the riser of the bow. _Here it comes. _

"Think you have a minute to discuss something I heard down at The Rabbit Hole?"

Your heart drops into your stomach and fuck, shit, damn, you're done. You nod your head, swallow three times and then say, "Of course."

"I know I was drinking on Saturday night. It was a good day. Celebrating with the men, knowing that we all had a hand in defeating The Wicked Witch and evil and those bloody monkeys and all of that," he says with a lopsided smile. "It was a _good_ day."

"It was," you say softly.

"I knew it wasn't going to be long before something happened."

This is where you would run if you could. You'd pick yourself up, hurdle the desk, push him out of the way, and run like the devil was chasing you. "Robin-"

"No, Swan, let me finish," he says forcefully. "I know what's going on between you and Gina," he says, his voice cracking slightly at his name for her. If you didn't dislike the fact that he calls her that it would _almost_ break your heart. And you hate yourself for _that_.

"Look, Robin-" He raises his hand to stop you again. You knew better than to interrupt again, but you can't help it.

"Swan, do you think I don't know how she feels about you?" he asks, looking directly at you.

You lower your eyes. It's too much. You can't look at him or his eyes or that stupid fucking scruff that you would have been attracted to before Regina came into your life.

"I met her at a time when she knew she would never have you or Henry back one day." You hear him take a breath. You're still not looking at him and really? You are never going to want to look at him ever again after this. He clears his throat and you hear him moving a little bit, his boot heels clicking on the floor. "She needed someone to keep her mind busy. To keep her heart in her chest."

Those words, though, they make you look up at him. Finally. "What?" you ask. What does he mean?

"She took her own heart. Because of Henry. Because of letting him go. And at first, I thought it was just him. But," he pauses, looks down at his weapon and then back up at you, his eyes filled with tears, "I know love when I see it and I know it when I hear it in someone's voice. She heard it in mine when I spoke of my," he pauses again, takes a very deep breath, lets it out, then pulls another into his chest as he pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingerless leather gloved hand. Underneath his nails are dirty and you know it's not something you should think, but _how does Regina stand that _comes rushing into your mind.

"Marion?" you ask. He nods his head, still holding the bridge of his nose. "You loved her very much." Another nod of the head. "Robin, I am not a _home-wrecker_," you finally say, your own eyes filling with tears. "It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"Emma," he breathes out.

"What?" you ask after waiting a beat. "What, Robin?"

He looks at you, his blue eyes red rimmed. "Roland and I will be moving from 108 Mifflin later this afternoon. I just want you to know that."

You aren't sure how to feel about this. Part of you is thrilled but more of you is scared and what is going on? You aren't a home-wrecker. This is not supposed to be like this. "Robin, wait."

"No, Swan, no." He stands up and slings the quiver and bow over his shoulder. He straightens his leather vest and then bows his head slightly. When he brings his eyes back up to meet yours, he blinks twice before saying, "I may be a thief, but I know when to return something that doesn't belong to me." You feel your heart shoot into your throat before he says, in a voice much kinder than it should be, "You better not hurt her."

"I won't," you whisper, your heart in your throat, your legs numb, your stomach filled with emotion. He about faces and practically marches out of your office in the Sheriff's station. You can see him give your dad a firm handshake before he leaves. Your dad's eyes drift over towards yours and you know he knows. He's always known.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice traveling towards you.

You nod because what else can you do. You aren't okay, but you have to be. You're the savior, remember? And saving people sometimes means hurting others.

_He's such a nice guy…._


End file.
